


King/Knight AU: At Least Once More

by Wadamwoltron



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: King/Knight AU, Knight Shiro, M/M, Medieval AU, Mentions of surgery, blood tw, king adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 05:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wadamwoltron/pseuds/Wadamwoltron
Summary: Adam is the ruler of a kingdom, and he’s appointed one of his knights, Takashi, to be Captain of the Guard, the king’s closest protector. They begin to grow close, and come to realize after a time that they’re in love with each other, but Shiro can’t act upon it lest he lose the job he’s spent all his life trying to earn. A neighboring kingdom bent on conquest has made multiple attempts on Adam’s life, unsuccessful until one occasion, where Adam’s chest is sliced open before the assassins are defeated. After the attack, Shiro rushes to the king’s side, where Adam confesses his love and kisses Shiro while the knight holds pressure on the wound till the medics arrive. This fic takes place that night, after the attack. Hope you enjoy!





	King/Knight AU: At Least Once More

"The king would like to see you, Captain," the medic's voice rang in Shiro's right ear. He whipped around to see her calm face, her small hands working the king's blood off her fingers with a cloth. The sight sent his stomach plummeting, even more so as he became acutely aware of how painted his front was as well. 

"He's okay?" Shiro asked in a panic. 

"He's okay," she responded. "He lost a lot of blood, but he'll make a full recovery." Shiro, perhaps rather rudely, pushed past her in his eagerness, forcing the thoughts that swirled around his head to remain in the hallway as he crossed the threshold. Now was not the time to ponder whether the king's words were actually true. They couldn't have been, Shiro believed. He was delirious from the blood loss, thought he might die, wasn't in his right mind. There were many reasons to not believe it when Adam pulled Shiro close, whispered those words, and enveloped the knight's lips in a kiss. 

I think I'm in love with you. 

Shiro shook the remaining distractions from his head as he beheld the vignette of the room. What mattered first and foremost was the king's health. As the multiple doctors finished packing up their tools and clearing the area, Shiro caught his eye on the king, looking pale and weak in his bed. Pale and weak, but alive, and breathing, and blinking awake. His hands rested calmy at his sides, his bare torso shrouded only by a strip of wrapping that covered the stitching and gauze beneath. Shiro averted his gaze, praying that the heat in his face wasn't noticeable. Though Adam’s bedsheets were speckled with the evidence of surgery, he seemed too disoriented to care. 

"Your highness," Shiro began, but found the rest of the sentence was yet to be formulated. He wasn't sure what he’d say had he continued.

"Didn't I tell you you could call me Adam?," the king grinned at the edges of Shiro's peripheral. "How many times must I remind you before you finally humor me?" 

"Once more, at the very least," chuckled Shiro, his anxieties beginning to dwindle at the sound of Adam's voice. Though it was deep and strong as before, a certain raspiness blanketed the king's words when he spoke.

"Please come here, Takashi." There was only one person in all the kingdom who dared to refer to the Captain of the Guard by his given name, and only one person who even cared to know it. The sound of Shiro’s name resting on Adam’s lips caused him to adjust his gaze to fix on them, soft and pinched up in the gentlest of smiles. Shiro summoned all of his power to not dwell on the moment he felt those lips with his own as he made his way across the room, the metal clang of his armor somehow drowned out by his own breathing. Every inhale was deep, a futile attempt to calm himself and the swirl of emotions that tugged his brain in a multitude of directions. He had nearly lost Adam, his king, the one man he was sworn to protect, and his dear-- Shiro halted as he reached Adam’s bedside. 

He was even more beautiful up close, laying so gracefully as though he were posing for a portrait rather than recovering from an assassination attempt. He might as well have been carved out of the finest marble by Heaven itself, for despite his current state, he radiated such a dignity and beauty that even an artist of the highest caliber would try and fail to capture half his elegance. Shiro wanted nothing more than to bend down and reciprocate the kiss, apologize again for failing Adam, confess everything he was feeling. But he was sworn to a duty. No personal emotions could bar him from his responsibilities as the king’s knight. And so he stood, tall and distant as a crumbling turret, and kept his gaze unfocused as Adam began to speak. 

“Thank you for saving my life, Takashi.” Adam smiled weakly up at him. “You did save my life, you know.”

“My lord, I believe you’re delirious,” retorted Shiro, a fake grin hiding his real one. “The doctors saved you.” 

“Josephine, the one who called you in, told me if you hadn’t kept pressure on the wound as long and as firm as you did, I would have lost too much blood.” His gaze turned sharp and solemn. “I would have died, Takashi.” Hearing the words from Adam’s own mouth proved too much for Shiro to bear, and he elected to turn and walk away for a brief moment to blink the tears from his eyes, hoping they hadn’t formed enough for the king to see. 

“You and you only saved me. I want you to realize that.” Shiro turned after a time to meet Adam’s gaze, just as fierce and lovely from a few paces away as it was up close. 

“My king, any one of your knights would have done the same. I just happened to reach you first. The rest took to fending off the assassins. It could have been anybody holding your wound until the medics arrived.” Adam’s eyes fluttered in response, the corners of his mouth slacking as his consciousness began to fade. 

“Yes, I suppose. But I’m so glad it was you.” And with that, he was gone. Shiro was grateful that sleep had overcome Adam. It allowed him to rest, and Shiro to parse his thoughts. He cast himself into a chair by the king’s side, facing away from him with the back towards the bed. Head falling into his hands, Shiro allowed himself to be engulfed in the loud silence of the peaceful room and his pounding mind. 

I think I’m in love with you. Adam couldn’t have meant it. Wouldn’t he have discussed it again if he did? Maybe he couldn’t even remember saying it. Though the kiss was so thoroughly etched in Shiro’s head, maybe it meant nothing to Adam. Just a last ditch effort to seek comfort and intimacy in what could have been his final moments. Shiro rationalized that that simply must be the case. In no other circumstances would a king kiss a knight, supposedly in love or not. There were customs in place, standards, lines that couldn’t be crossed. The Captain of the Guard swore an oath to relinquish all simple pleasures upon being appointed. No off duty days, no alcohol or drugs, no intimate relationships. Even if Adam did return Shiro’s affections, he’d risk his own position as well. Though it was commonplace throughout the kingdoms of the realm that the rulers of each could marry whomever they chose, taking up in secret with a member of the king’s own court was unheard of, and the concept frowned upon greatly. The repercussions against Adam would surely place a stain on his reputation, and ignite dispute amongst traditionalists. Though Adam never was much of a traditional king to begin with.

Of course, the situation could never lead to such a thing. Shiro had a responsibility, an honor and an oath. Personal emotions could not overtake them, and they certainly couldn’t place the king’s reputation at risk either, assuming Adam did mean his words and gesture. Shiro sorted out that it was enough to just be by his king’s side. It had to be.

When the shroud of darkness from outside began coating the room, Shiro cast a fire in its stone base and called a maid for more blankets. He lit candles around the room as quietly as he could muster, and thanked the maid in a hushed tone for the extra warmth and the clean sheets she thought to bring. Gingerly placing several layers overtop Adam’s exposed chest, Shiro attempted to avoid the beauty of his sculpted form rising and falling. With a sigh, he turned and slumped back into the chair, defeated. The night had begun to creep in through the window, and the chill came behind it. It was entirely dark before a voice drew Shiro’s head from his palms.

“Takashi,” Adam’s voice rattled behind chattering teeth. “I’m so cold.” Shiro turned to him, grabbed hold of his hand unprompted, and studied his face, groggy and desperate. 

“I’ll get you the rest of the blankets and put more wood on the fire.” He was surprised at himself that he very nearly leaned forward to plant a kiss upon Adam’s forehead before standing up. It felt so natural a movement, but one Shiro had already decided he would never complete. The knight gently piled on the remainder of the blankets, discarding the clean sheets to the side until Adam was well enough to be moved. The fire ignited a halo around Adam’s head as he shuddered in its glow. 

“How do you feel?” Shiro inquired, bending down. “What can I do for you?” 

“I’m still far too cold. I suppose it’s from the blood loss. I--” A shiver overcame the remainder of the sentence.

“Shall I have a maid draw a hot bath for you? Would you prefer I carry you over to the fire?” Shiro believed he looked foolish, being so terrible at concealing his concern. 

“I don’t want any of that. I don’t think I can move, anyway.” To prove it to himself, Adam weakly outstretched his arm and reached ever so slightly to where Shiro stood, quickly retracting his hand with a wince as the stretch tugged at his stitches. His knight began pacing, looking around for any other way with which to keep the king warm enough through the night. As he was just about to open the door and summon a maid for some boiling tea, Adam whispered his name.

“Takashi, I have a rather odd request,” he said, amusement lingering in his tone. 

“What is it, my king?” Shiro turned, striding over to the foot of the bed. 

“I...I want you to come hold me. Please.” 

Shiro believed it was once again a cruel trick by fate, some sort of twisted joke from the Heavens to toy with his emotions. He fought against his desire to wrap Adam in his arms, share his heat, protect him…. and instead forced out a denial, wrought with fluster. 

“Surely you can’t be serious? Let us get you some tea, we’ll wrap you in hot towels warmed over the fire, we’ll-”

“Takashi, I need you to hold me.” 

Shiro found the courage to search his face. He became determined to find some evidence that Adam was still not in his right mind, but gazing into the stern eyes and tense blue lips, he saw nothing but honesty. There was a sort of solemness to the way Adam lay crumpled under the blankets, as though the king had already died. All formalities were stripped, all elegance and dignity present even earlier, when he was closer to death, ceased to exist. The closest definition for the expression in Adam’s face was desperation. 

“V-very well, your highness,” Shiro choked out, his hands growing numb with tension. This is your duty. Nothing more. You are a servant to the king, and that is all. You are a servant. 

It became obvious the instant Shiro rose from his kneeled position that he couldn’t oblige his king’s request in his current state. He still remained in full armor, splattered with dried blood, the edge of his cape ripped to shreds from where he sawed it off to press against the wound on Adam's chest. He had remained in close proximity to the king since the assassination attempt occured, leaving himself no opportunity to change or eat. Beneath the suit of metal, his tunic and pants must have been sullied with grime from the battle, which would make a terribly disgusting place for the king to rest his head. A wash of embarrassment flooded through Shiro.

"I'm very unpleasant right now," he admitted. "I'm covered in sweat and dirt from the fight, I-" 

"Takashi. I do not care. I just need you." With what little blood Adam had left, it seems to flush into his face at that moment, though Shiro may have just been daydreaming. “If you’re so concerned, you could grab one of my shirts from the evening wardrobe.” He stared more intently at his king for a moment, transfixed, confused, and abashed, but broke free instantly as another shiver rippled through Adam. 

The armor was easy enough to remove, a few hinges and clasps holding each piece together. First came the gauntlets, the bracers, the brassards. His helmet had long since been discarded in the throne room, forgotten at his side as he rushed to the king’s aid. All the more easy for Shiro to hoist the breastplate off and send it clattering to the ground in his haste. And with each piece he cast off his body, Shiro glanced up to check on his king. Adam stared with little discernible expression, saved for a clenched jaw to hold the shivers in. It was significantly embarrassing to Shiro to be gazed at so intently while he rid himself of his armor, though he reasoned there was little time to dwell on the subject. With his torso free, he came to remove the tasses, the cuisses, the knee cops, the greaves, the sabatons, until Shiro looked nothing more than an ordinary man, shed of his knighthood. 

His tunic seemed far less disgusting than anticipated, however, Shiro would have preferred to go rinse off and change entirely, though the king couldn’t be left alone and cold for so long. Shiro paced over to the opposite side of the grand room, humiliation brewing in the pit of his stomach as he reached for the handle of the wardrobe with hesitation. 

“If you don’t mind it..?” He asked timidly. Adam lolled his head to face the knight and nodded with a vague flick of the wrist. Shiro pulled the mahogany doors open to reveal a marvelous display of elegant and beautifully crafted fabrics, especially for sleepwear. Adam possessed an entirely separate wardrobe for daily wear, and a trunk with which he kept more common clothes for horseback riding or helping the servants tend to the livestock. He was a man undeterred by customs, largely a cause of the neighboring realm’s spite. Shiro returned his mind to the present and pulled the most plain garment he could find, a flowing white tunic. He peeled his own off his body in one swift, hasty motion, feeling the chill of the night lap at his exposed skin. 

In the moment, Shiro couldn’t even bear to look at his king, a sense of unease overcoming him. He was merely a servant performing his duty, Shiro reiterated to himself. Though as he conjured the words he knew they were false. This was much deeper and far more intricate. No other knight would even think to do such a thing. And no other king would request something so intimate of their captain. He was not a knight nor a servant now. Shiro wasn’t entirely sure what position he maintained, now or in the morning when the maids would come to discover them. All he knew was that he was still the king’s, heart and all. 

His body clenched as the scent of Adam engulfed him when the tunic fell over his form. It was as though many of the world’s finest smells had come together to create a flavor entirely new, so wonderfully mixed it was impossible to trace one scent or another back to its origins. Shiro turned around, his face hot despite the chill in the room. Adam’s gaze had been averted, his hand resting by his head in a clench. Though only a matter of minutes had passed since the king’s first plea, Shiro was certain it must’ve felt like an eternity. He gingerly crawled up onto the mattress, coaxing Adam’s head to turn and his faint smile to glow bright in the warm light of the fire. Shiro slid himself underneath the covers and pulled in close next to the king, each joint in his body feeling rusted and slow with the tension. 

“Can I lift you a little?” He coughed out, his voice wrought with shyness. Adam nodded, glancing upwards to meet Shiro’s eyes. Carefully, the knight situated his hands beneath the king, hesitant fingers tracing along the smooth muscles in his back. He gingerly guided Adam’s torso to rest on his own, taking extra precaution to not jostle the bandages against his chest. Adam let out a sigh as he allowed his head to fall lazily onto Shiro, snuggling into the warmth. Strong arms rested gently around his shoulders, and soon the king’s shivering ceased. 

Neither breathed a word for some time. Shiro locked his body into place, refusing to move at even the most desperate of inclinations to avoid disturbing Adam against him. His head pulsed with doubt, his emotions overtaking his mind. Mere minutes ago Shiro convinced himself it was enough to just be by Adam’s side, his knight and nothing more. And now here he was, having stripped himself of his title, even his clothes, to hold the king like they had been wed for years. He attempted to the best of his ability to avoid enjoying the sensation of having Adam pressed against him, his warm yet ragged breath puffing gently and slowly, at peace. For some time Shiro was certain the king had fallen asleep once more, until he spoke.

“I was wrong, Takashi.” Shiro turned his head downwards enough to see that Adam’s eyes were indeed open, his gaze locked on the fire across the room, his tone perfectly clear. 

“About what, your majesty?” 

“I don’t think I’m in love with you, I know I am.” 

The night seemed to cease in that moment. Shiro’s throat swelled and shriveled all at once with the revelation of Adam’s words. He tried to convince himself the king was still delirious, incapable of thinking rationally. Though his voice was clear and bold, his eyes sharp and attentive, his face gently painted with a rose flush on his cheeks. He was fully in his right mind. Not only did Adam remember saying what he did, he meant it. Not only did he mean it, but he was no longer near death, it was no longer a last-ditch effort for intimacy. Adam’s speech was a confession, undoubtedly. The words clung to Shiro’s ears and his mind refused to process them fully. The king is in love with me. Adam is in love with me. 

His greatest desire in the moment was to thrust his face into the king’s, though their current circumstances did not allow such violent affections. Restraining himself, Shiro dug for an answer, pondered as fast as his mind could to formulate a response, something of a kind rejection powerful enough to maintain their order and his own composure. One last opportunity to salvage his honor and Adam’s standing, albeit the king himself seemed to have no reservations. One final chance to force his feelings away. 

“I’m in love with you, Takashi. You do feel the same, don’t you?” Those eyes tilted up, and the guillotine blade dropped in Shiro’s brain.

“Of course I do.” 

He found his heart beating at his ribs with the words. It almost burned to admit it, his face alight with heat, his chest stinging with longing, his muscles tense with the fear of how much he’d just placed at risk. And yet to hear the words aloud in his own voice seemed to carry the fear away with them the more they hung in the air. His lungs felt more full than ever as Shiro breathed once more, tilting Adam’s chin upwards to stare into his eyes as he spoke. 

“I love you, my king. I’m in love with you.” The giddiness in his voice rang out into the quiet of the night. Adam smiled, so warm and gentle it was more captivating than any wonder of the world. He shook his head against Shiro’s chest, his hair ruffling against the thin fabric and a laugh escaped his lips.

“How many more times did you say I’d have to ask you to use my name?”

“At least once more, your highness.”

“Please.” 

“Adam, I love you,” Shiro whispered into his hair. “I-I tried not to admit it, I know it’ll affect my position and yours and the kingdom--... but I failed. I neglected my duty as your sworn sword and let my emotions overcome me.” A sigh rippled through him. “I’ve known for some time, but I could never dare bring myself to--” His words were swallowed in a pair of the softest lips. And for the first time that evening, his mind dried up into silence. The moment blanketed him in peace. Shiro cradled the back of Adam’s head, holding him close and steady as his other hand traveled to find Adam’s own. Their fingers intertwined as their lips did, slowly, softly, naturally. Excluding the brief, tear-sodden, unexpected moment earlier that day, this was Shiro’s first real, true, kiss. And yet it did not seem to matter whether he had any sense of technique, only that he could feel Adam against his lips and not care to part for several minutes. Shiro found himself disappointed that the world continued turning, when previously it was agony to feel time move so slowly. He prayed he could stay like this, in the quiet hours before the repercussions would come, entirely alone with the man he loved.

Not another word was uttered. None needed to be spoken as Shiro conveyed his adoration in the gentle pecks he hid in Adam’s hairline and the long drawn out kisses he pressed into his king’s lips. It seemed mere seconds had passed before Adam’s head went limp against Shiro’s shoulder, sleep finally overtaking him once more. Shiro remained awake a while longer, cradling his love against him and ensuring every few minutes that the breathing was normal and the wound was still secured. It was not the first time the king had requested the captain to stay in his room overnight. However, it was the first he had asked his love to. Shiro had discarded any remaining pieces of his old relationship with the king on the floor by his bedside. It was a rather raunchy thought, he mused, though the connotation could not be more innocent, born from love and devotion. 

His head drifted to what the morning would bring, what a scandal it would be to see the king in the arms of a knight, how it would rattle the kingdom and surely discharge Shiro from his position. However, as Adam moaned softly in his slumber beneath Shiro’s chin, the circumstances to befall them when they awoke seemed to matter less and less. The repercussions could wait until morning. The kingdom could wait.


End file.
